


do not be afraid to show the world that you would eat it whole.

by httptheo



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Career!Peeta, District 1 Peeta, District 12 Katniss, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httptheo/pseuds/httptheo
Summary: For a moment she glances back. Bodies spread over the ground- some of them not much older than Prim, bloodied and battered and painfully still. Amidst it all stands Peeta, blonde hair aglow in the sunlight like a crown, sword in hand and blood spattered like a vengeful king. Those bright eyes are fixed right on her, and even from a distance she can see as his lips curl something dangerous and taunting. His head shakes, mocking and disapproving and she can almost hear him, feel the heat of him pressed against her in the elevator after the interviews.'If you run, and I'm forced to come and find you, then I'll hunt you down. I'll slaughter everything in my path until I find you, Princess and I'll make sure your death is one they'll remember.'They watch each other even as the slaughter continues and Katniss steps forward. For a moment she thinks she sees something like shock, maybe satisfaction flash in his features as he assumes she's coming to him. Prideful and defiant, Katniss dips into a mocking bow, and then turns and disappears into the trees.If you want me, she thinks, come and get me.Let the games begin.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 102





	do not be afraid to show the world that you would eat it whole.

She'd never quite understood the Careers. 

She understood who and what they were in theory, but it was always the why that had confused her. Learning to fight, to hunt had been _survival_ for her. She figured there would be others in the outlier districts who had been forced to do the same. Victims of circumstance. That was something she could understand. Volunteering just for the fight, for the thrill of the hunt and the kill; now that was the part she couldn't understand. She understood even less his fascination with her. 

Katniss stands her ground, chin up and eyes as hardened as the coal her district mines even as the Career gives her that lazy lidded grin. A part of her is terrified and trembling. A quieter part isn't trembling out of fear. He takes one step forward, then another, then another, crowding into her space. 

"The Girl On Fire," he drawls, voice low. This close she's startled by the brightness of his eyes. If she hadn't been brought up in a life that taught her beauty is a fickle and flimsy thing, she'd almost admire him for his. But it isn't the sort of beauty one can indulge in easily. He's ensnaring the way red berries are after a winter of starvation, beautiful the way it's vibrant colours are the moment before you find out that the berries are _poisonous_. A hand reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and she stiffens. "I've had my eye on you."

"Ever since the Reaping." She says stiffly. "So I've heard." 

He smiles something dark and feral. "Oh, have you?" His hand slips lower then and Katniss slaps it away. The amusement in his eyes sickens her. 

"That was quite an interview." 

"Did you like it?"

> _'There's this one girl' He had said, suit jacket draped casually over the back of his seat, sleeves rolled up and arms exposed. The lights had set his hair aglow, made his eyes shine and there had been a magnetism to him that made even the other tributes lean in closer. The audience had been on the edge of their seats from the moment his Interview had began, so drawn in by the charm he exuded they hadn't blinked for fear of missing it. Finnick Odair be damned. "But I don't think she's rooting for me."_
> 
> _The audience had tittered heartbroken, more than a few calling that they would be rooting for him. The Tribute had shot them a smile dangerous and knowing._
> 
> _"Well," Caesar had said with a flair of his hands and a too white smile. "If you go out there, and you win this, there's no way she wont be!" The crowd roared around them._
> 
> _"Sadly Ceasar, I don't think that's going to happen." The Career had the audacity to wear an expression so profoundly longing that the crowd had felt it too._
> 
> _Ceasar himself had looked heartbroken. "And why not?"_
> 
> _His head had dipped, an imitation of something vulnerable. "Because she'll be in that arena with me." The audience had taken a collective breath, and backstage Glimmer had flushed a darling red, eyes sparkling like her name._
> 
> _"You mean Glimmer the beautiful young tribute who volunteered with you? Oh My, talk about a -"_
> 
> _"Not her," His voice had been so smooth in his delivery that no-one seemed to be offended he'd cut Ceasar off. "She's from another District, but she's just as beautiful as Glimmer- more actually. She's strong. Fierce, brave too. There was this look in her eyes at her reaping," He drew in a breath, expression so tender he looked as if he was falling in love. The crowd almost fell in love with him. "I knew the moment she volunteered for her sister that I had to have her, even if it means i have to kill her."_

"You were lying." It's a fact. A hope. He crowds her back further until she hits the wall behind her and Katniss finds her every nerve on fire, a cornered animal. She wonders how he'd snared her so easily. His hands move, one arm resting against the wall beside her head, the other pulling at the pins in her hair. He lets them drop to the ground carelessly as he unwinds her hair and Katniss finds herself frozen between one heartbeat and the next. He smells as sickly sweet as roses. Katniss decides she _hates_ them. 

"Did you want me to be?" He asks, voice a low croon and eyes glinting. "Or did you want me to be telling the truth?" His fingers run through her hair, coaxing the waves apart even as he leans in close, breath fanning over her neck. "Did you want me to say that I want you? That I've been thinking about you every night since the Reaping? How much I've imagined you like this? Looking at me with those pretty eyes just begging for me to kiss you?" His lips graze the spot behind her ear, drift over her neck and Katniss startles back into herself. 

"Don't!" She pushes him back, half snarl half plea and fingers curl into a fist. She can't say she isn't satisfied at the blood that pools under the cut of his lip. He doesn't even flinch. Instead his hand works over his jaw before and he pushes his hair back from his eyes, looking like at her with a feline satisfaction. The Career looks less like he's been punched and more like he's received a gift. He thumbs the blood on his lip before drawing the appendage into his mouth slowly lips curling around it when as he notices her gaze drop to watch it.

"Don't worry, Princess." He says stepping close, he's close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off him, but this time he's careful to keep the bare minimum of space. "I wont touch you like that, not until you want me to." His features shift into something knowing, eyes almost cruel. "And you will want me to. I bet you'll beg the moment you step off the podium."

"I wo-" He shushes her even as she bares her teeth. 

"You will. Not now, but eventually you will."

"The only time you'll be touching me is when you're trying to kill me." She says, jaw locked and chin raised. She's not naive enough to think he'd ever leave her unharmed. If he thought she'd fall for this act just so he could lure her in and kill her quickly he was dumber than she thought. "And I plan on staying alive."

"I bet you do, Princess," he says unfazed. "And I plan on keeping you alive, for now at least. Call it an alliance, Sweetheart. You're going to be with me in that arena, alive and by my side- maybe under me if you ask nicely. Or on top if I'm feeling generous." Katniss flushes red from the implications. "So do me a favour, Princess; the moment that countdown stops, stay exactly where you are until I come and get you. Don't move a muscle not even a shake of that pretty head. If you do, I'm going to be _very_ disappointed." His voice dips on the word, low and breathless and Katniss' own breath hitches. "If you run, and I'm forced to come and find you, then I'll hunt you down. I'll slaughter everything in my path until I find you Princess and I'll make sure your death is one they'll remember." Roiling deep in her stomach is fear, a pure sort of terror and revulsion, instincts screaming at her to run but everything is overlayed by a thick and heady film that makes her thoughts hazy and she drowns in it. He steps back suddenly, fingers curling around a loose lock of her hair before he withdraws fully. 

"This is your floor, Princess." He says and on cue the doors slide open. The thick, nameless fog that had lain between them evaporates between suddenly and Katniss moves past him, thoughts blissfully clear and lungs greedy for air that doesn't smell like roses. When she looks back he's still there, poised against the wall of the elevator, smile predatory and eyes gleaming. "See you in the Arena."

\---

The light is blinding. It's bright even as her eyes adjust and she takes in the Arena. Forest. Just like her hunting grounds at home and for a moment she watches the trees, she sees the bow laid a few feet away from the cornucopia and she feels victory. For a moment Peeta's words ring through her head accompanied by Haymitch's. The Cornucopia. They'd both warned her away. The countdown withers down, seconds wasting away and the moment it stops she runs for the bow. The other Tributes split, one or two breaking off for the woods surrounding them and the others follow her, each intent on the precious resources they know they'll die without. It's ironic in a way, in that the need for those resources cause them their deaths. At first the deaths around her don't register. The only thing she can hear is her own heartbeat in her ears.

And then the screaming filters in. 

It's starts out as something like white noise, rises in a frequency and pitch that she has no idea how to deal with and then Katniss sees the boy from District Four die. He'd been running, aiming for the backpack of supplies a few feet in front of, just opposite her. The thin line of silver erupts through his throat and he stills mid stride. Katniss echoes the movement, feet skidding on the grass and she stares with quickly dawning horror as red blossoms down his throat. Even from the distance she can see it as he gurgles, choking wetly and then he falls. Clove stands behind him, knives in hand, victorious. 

Katniss swallows the bile in her throat, body tense, coiled like a snake preparing to strike. Clove is the opposite of her, relaxed, shoulders lowered lazily and smile arrogant. She looks as if she's been born for this, trained to kill since a young age. Katniss remembers then that she has. Clove twists her wrist tauntingly and the knives between her fingers glisten. It's the only warning she gets before the Career throws one. Katniss leans back, barely registering the sting of the knife grazing her cheek as she ducks low. Clove throws another in a small elegant movement and Katniss remembers the deadly grace and precision she'd had in training. Katniss doesn't have that, but what she does have is instinct and speed. The next one flies over her head, the one after that skims past her right side and Katniss slams into her stomach. They fall back, Clove beneath her, head ricocheting off the ground and Katniss takes that moment to grab the pack that District Four had died for and turns tail into the trees. The bodies fly past her as she heads towards it, cheek stinging, heart in her throat and when she reaches it she leans on the closest tree, chest heaving. For a moment she glances back. Bodies spread over the ground- some of them not much older than Prim, bloodied and battered and painfully still. Amidst it all stands Peeta, blonde hair aglow in the sunlight like a crown, sword in hand and blood spattered like a vengeful king. Those bright eyes are fixed right on her, and even from a distance she can see as his lips curl something dangerous and taunting. His head shakes, mocking and disapproving and she can almost hear him, feel the heat of him pressed against her in the elevator after the interviews.

'the moment that countdown stops, stay exactly where you are until I come and get you. Don't move a muscle not even a shake of that pretty head. If you do, I'm going to be very disappointed.'

'If you run, and I'm forced to come and find you, then I'll hunt you down. I'll slaughter everything in my path until I find you Princess and I'll make sure your death is painful and slow'

They watch each other even as the slaughter continues and Katniss steps forward. For a moment she thinks she's something like shock, maybe satisfaction flash in his features as he assumes she's coming to him. Prideful and defiant, Katniss dips into a mocking bow, and then turns and disappears into the trees.

If you want me, she thinks, come and get me.

**Let the games begin.**

\---

Back in District Twelve, she and Gale had spoken sometimes in quiet tones about what they would do if they were reaped. They were Hunters. They could track and snare and they knew enough to move around almost unnoticed. They knew enough to kill if they needed to, but it was never a situation Katniss wanted to find herself in. Her plan back then had been to edge along the outskirts of the arena, passive and unnoticed. A proverbial fly on a blood spattered wall. It was what she'd planned the moment she stepped foot on the train. She wasn't so sure if she could go through with it now. She'd be a fly on a blood spattered wall, with a Career shaped swatter trying to kill her. This, at the very least, despite being Capitol made, is still her domain. And that gives a slim advantage. 

She'd stuck to the trees as much as she could, walking along twisting roots, careful not to leave a trail. Whilst she doubted they had the same tracking experience as she did, Katniss didn't exactly want to help anyone in their attempts to kill her. She'd ran until she was almost sure she was safe, and then walked still because she knew that she wasn't. Avoiding the clear paths were a given, so she'd ducked carefully into the winding undergrowth. Less chance of being followed. More chance of catching small prey. It was easy. Simple. Tied safely in her tree, Katniss could almost fool herself into thinking it was a just a normal hunt back home with Gale. At least until the music sounded. The projections, despite their height, cast a pale and dim light over the trees, bathing them silver as Katniss counted. She knew the number, she'd counted the canons as they sounded, but it had just been sound then. She knew they meant lives taken but it was easier to think of them as noise then. Looking at their faces, Katniss feels her stomach lurch. A part of her quietly wonders when how many of them Peeta killed. 

The brunette closes her eyes, head resting against the bark and tries to settle the flare of fear in her chest. Fear was useful. The adrenaline would keep her strong and alert, but too much would get her killed if she didn't utilise it. 

She takes a deep breath, holds it before she exhales and when she takes another she inhales smoke. Katniss watches, careful not too move lest she unlodges herself from her perch. There, a few feet behind her tree she can see glow of an open flame. Idiot, she thinks with an roll of grey eyes before she settles back into place. She understood the need for warmth, the chill was seeping through her Tribute issued clothes, but surely whoever they were should know better. 

The sudden scream that cuts through the air makes her jolt, and Katniss presses herself tightly to the bark, stomach full of dread. 

> _'I'd start a fire,' The merchant boy had said at breakfast, face gaunt but determined. Haymitch cut him off with a lazy roll of his eyes, cup full of something that definitely wasn't water._
> 
> _'That's a good way to get yourself killed.'_

As the terrified scream cuts off, just as sudden as it started, Katniss realises how right he was. 

The laughter echoes, bouncing off the tree bark and Katniss spots Glimmer bounding through the undergrowth, grinning with porcelain white teeth, golden curls swaying. She looks like a rare cut jewel, rather than a Career. Katniss might've believed her to be just another ditsy Merchant girl if they were some place else. Cato follows closely behind.

"Did you hear her? No! No! Don't kill me!" She simpers mockingly. Katniss feels her blood like ice in her veins, discovering a newfound sense of hatred for the blonde. 

Cato's laugh rings out loud, even Clove's sounds from behind him. Glimmer mocks the girl's screams again but it fades like white noise as Katniss looks at them. They'd formed a Career pack, she'd known the would. But she only counted one...two...three...

Peeta steps out of the shadows as if he was summoned. 

The darkness cloaks him, dim lighting hitting the peaks of his cheekbones and for a moment she loses her breath. His eyes glow, all seeing and she flattens herself against the branch as if she can fade into it completely. The only word to describe him is Predator. 

He moves with too much grace for his broad frame, unbothered even as Glimmer slinks over to him and curls her talons around his bicep. Katniss isn't jealous by any means- she has no reason to be, but something in her hisses at the sight of them being so close. She writes it off as a shared hatred for them both. 

"Maybe we can play with Twelve next." She suggests coyly, batting her lashes. Peeta gives her a disinterested glance and flicks her away as if she's a bug on his sleeve.

"There are two of them. You'll have to be more specific." 

A foot away from them Cato and Clove share a glance, and settle to watch them with amused looks. They've recognised it as a warning, just like Katniss has. Glimmer, however, seems to miss that point. 

"You know the one I mean Peety," She says, tone overbearingly sweet and lips pursed in a pout. "The Girl O-"

Peeta's hand curls around her throat with swiftness that makes even Clove's expression startle. Katniss' heart beats in her throat at the way his blue eyes glint like steel. She's heard about the ones like him. Delly Cartwright would whisper a row behind her at school about the boys in her books (ones Katniss never had the interest or luxury to be reading.) The bad ones. The ones with a presence as addictive as drugs, the ones like flower traps, everyone too blinded by the beauty of the petals to realise the danger, and by the time they did they were already dead.

"That Girl," He snarls, more beast than man. "Is none of your concern." 

Glimmer's hands scrabble for purchase at his wrist, and whilst he's not choking her yet there's enough pressure around his counterpart's throat to show that he could be. He releases her roughly and Glimmer stumbles back towards Cato as if seeking protection. The latter is too tied up in his own amusement to even pretend he'd help her. 

The District Two Tribute whistles lowly. 

"Easy there, Loverboy." He says it with the air of a boy joking around in school, and not like a Career with blood on his sword. "No-one will touch your girlfriend."

Katniss scowls at that. She's not his girlfriend. She's not his anything. 

"No." Peeta replies with a smile as charming as the one he'd given Ceasar. "They wont. Because if they do, I'm going to gut them with this knife whilst they're still breathing."

The blade in mention flicks around his fingers with a deftness, even Clove can't hope for.

In the trees above them, Katniss holds her breath.

\---

Her leg is burning. She's far from the flames now, but the smell of wood and ash follows her, the skin of her thigh swollen and plastic. With each stride the burn worsens, but she doesn't have a choice. Her pack is still abandoned by the river, and the only weapon she has, a small hunting knife, is clutched white knuckled in her hand. The male Tributes from Five and Six are behind her. It was her own fault. Her own stupidity. She'd been so eager for any type of relief from her burn that she'd sunk into the river without thinking of who may be on the other side. The answer, had been them. 

> _'You can hunt' Gale had said during their goodbye._
> 
> _'Not people' She'd answered._

But even in the event that it was an animal, Katniss had only ever known long range. She was a distance fighter, in close quarters she had nothing but instinct and desperation. She wasn't sure it would be enough to keep her alive. Think, Katniss yells to herself mindless of her heart beating in her ears. Think. They're taller than she is. Bigger too, and there's no way she can compete with them strength wise. But she is fast, and she's good with a knife. For a moment, she oddly wishes Peeta was with her. He dwarfed both her and the Tributes chasing her. She selfishly wishes he was here so that their blood would be on his hands rather than her own. Katniss slows her pace, tight even breaths in her chest as she measures the sound of their footsteps. Twelve feet. In then out. Nine. In again. Seven. Out. Five. In. Four. Out. Three. Almost there. Two. One. Katniss exhales as controlled as she can and shifting to the side, head tucked, arms covering her neck. Six hadn't expected her sudden stop, and bowls over her rolling awkwardly with a cry as he lands, his own knife driving through his leg as he rolls. There's a split second of relief before Five stumbles to a stop before her and arcs his own blade over his head, bringing it down in a vicious strike that she narrowly manages to avoid. The rapid action pulls at her thigh and Katniss grits her teeth against the worsening flare of pain. He moves to swing at her again and Katniss kicks at him, satisfaction rolling through her as her foot connects between his legs. He drops the knife with a groan, sinking to his knees and Katniss picks it up just in time to watch Six stagger to his feet. 

She crouches defensively, eyes wary and when she realises her next step she feels bad. 

"You Bitch," He hisses, and Katniss' temper flares. No, she decides, she doesn't feel bad at all, and she lunges forward, driving the knife in his thigh deeper. He screams at the action and Katniss can't allow herself room to think between one heartbeat and the next. This is it. The games. Her or them. She chooses them. Katniss doesn't allow herself the chance to hesitate and sinks the stolen blade into the Tribute's chest. It's harder than she thought it would be. All the times she'd seen it in the showing of the Games, it had seemed like a knife sinking into butter. Quick. Easy. The showings didn't prepare her for the agonising moment she spends Pushing on the hilt of the knife, forcing it through bones and sinew even as the Tribute jerks and thrashes beneath her. And then he slackens, limbs twitching, and eyes wide and glassy. The canon sounds. Time seems to pass in slow motion as she kneels there above him, and then she's wrenched back, an arm around her throat. The breath she draws is desperate and lacking and Katniss kicks out, hands digging to try and alleviate the pressure. His grip tightens in response and the fear she feels is almost paralysing. The sudden realisation that she's going to die isn't as startling as it should be. She bypasses it and instead thinks of Gale and the meadows she'll never see again. She thinks of her mother and then of Prim. Prim. She was right to volunteer, Prim was too gentle for this. Too good. She deserved to live. 

And Katniss had made her a promise hadn't she? 

Her free hand scrambles for the knife she'd dropped, but he jerks her back just as her fingers brush it's hilt. Katniss gasps for breath she doesn't receive, mind swimming with the lack of oxygen. She tries to slow her thinking as much as she can, and takes in a desperate greedy breath before letting her hands fall away from his arms. The Tribute's strong grip from before becomes utterly crushing. Katniss reaches again, but not for the lost knife, instead she reaches for him, hands over her head and grasping for everything and anything she can. Her first attempt grips hair and he grunts, an arm grabbing at her wrist and he _bends_ it. Katniss cries out, bordering on a scream and digs her other hand into something wet and fleshy. 

He screams and instead of relenting her grip, Katniss only digs her fingers in further and she pulls until he releases her with a wet and ragged sob. She sucks in greedy breaths, coughing against the burn in her throat and scrambles for her knife as he launches himself at her with a desperate roar. Katniss turns and his momentum pushes the knife straight into his chest. This time the moment isn't frozen. One moment he's alive. The next he's dead. Katniss takes him in, sees the blood on her hands, under her fingernails and takes in the gouged state of his eye. Katniss shoves away from him and retches as the canon thunders above her.

It takes far too long before the rise of bile and acid stops, and Katniss stumbles back to the river, tears streaming and chest hiccuping with broken sobs. The moment she reaches the bank she drops to her knees like her bones are made of lead, and scrubs at her hands. The water stains pink, as she scratches desperately at her skin, hysterical in her attempt to rid herself of the blood on her hands. She knew she'd have to kill. It had been a given. An inevitability. She hadn't known it would be like that. Feel like that. She could still feel their last breaths misting near her, their blood had felt so warm.

Katniss retches again at the thought, dry heaves against the rocks and sobs, full bodied. 

She'd killed them. They'd died because of her. They'd died and she didn't even know their names.

She doesn't know if she can do this. Not again. Not alone. 

\---

Finding the Careers is easier than she expected. Then again, she thinks, when you form a group of trained blood hungry killers, you weren't exactly running for cover. Everything was running from you. 

Katniss nestles herself safely in the crook of the tree's split trunk and watches, numb and aching. They'd set up camp at the Cornucopia. Unsurprising really, strategically it was an advantage. Katniss had her own. Peeta stands and strides away from camp, weapons strapped to his broad frame. Breathing a quiet exhale, Katniss shifts and moves along the thick branches into another tree, careful not to make too much noise. She's not entirely sure where he's going but when she deems him far enough from camp, she descends as silently as she can. 

> _'You need people to like you.' Haymitch had said once._
> 
> _'He made me look weak!' - 'He made you look desirable!'_
> 
> _'It's a television show, Sweetheart. You aren't winning any prizes on your own, so if it comes down to it, you suck it up and pretend. That way you might live long enough to get out of this.'_

Katniss takes a calculated risk, she draws the knife from her holster, thankfully and blessedly clean, and throws it. Her aim is nowhere as good as Cloves, but it hits it's mark with all the force she intends and Katniss allows herself to indulge in the tiny flicker of smug satisfaction that's threatening to be swallowed by her nerves. Peeta stills, and gives the knife a considering look where it's buried in the bark by his head. He turns to examine the shadows, features lined in a delicate fury that makes Katniss tremble. Fear or not, she needs to do this. A means to an end. That's all he is. 

"Either you want my attention," He drawls, hands unsheathing on of this blades strapped to his waist. He tosses it from hand to hand and analyses his surroundings even as as Katniss sneaks around behind him. "Or you've just made a very poor attempt at killing me." District Twelve's Tribute, slips forward and rests against the tree her knife is buried in, aiming for a calmness she doesn't feel.

"Either way," Peeta continues. "I'm offended."

"Maybe it's both," she keeps her voice strong, clear enough that it breaches the space between them and as Peeta turns to her she fights to keep herself steady. He's smiling at her again, that dangerous half smirk that she can't read and stalks towards her knife in hand. 

"I'm still offended," He says, and tilts his head. "Y'know I distinctly remember telling you that if you ran from me I'd hunt you down myself." His features shift into mocking disappointment as he nears her. "I said something else too, didn't I Princess?"

Katniss swallows down her fear and tries to slow her pulse, giving him the same lidded gaze she'd seen Merchant girls give Seam boys when their father's weren't looking. 

"You said if you found me you'd make sure my death is one they'd remember." Katniss fills in the blank for him, chin lifting as he slides the tip of his blade along the underside of her throat. By hersides her hands are shaking, so she twists them into the fabric of her jacket as if the fabric can anchor her. Her fight or flight response was singing- screaming, and begging her to run. She doesn't listen.

Peeta gives her a dangerously charming grin. "What do you say Princess?" He asks, eyes gleaming. "Are you ready to make history?"

"You're not going to kill me." She says with bravado she doesn't feel, eyes steely.

Peeta cocks a brow. "Wont I? I made you a promise, Girl On Fire. I like to keep my word."

Her own smile forms then, and some of the tension leaves her. Some, not all. Katniss would be an idiot to be unguarded. 

"And that's exactly why you aren't going to kill me." She tells him, pushing the knife away from her throat. Unlike in the elevator, Katniss feels a semblance of control.

"You didn't find me," She says, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. "I found you."

Peeta's features twist, something gleeful and unpleasant and Katniss thinks of Haymitch, and the sponsors and the burn on her leg. So she steps forward and kisses him. 

It's an awkward and uncomfortable thing, hand resting on his shoulder to keep her balance as she leans into his space, lips dry and pursed against his slack ones. She withdraws with her heart in her throat, regretful that her first kiss is like _this_ and wonders if the overstepping act will be marked down as the reason he killed her. Instead he presses her back and it's the elevator all over again, except this time he kisses her and every nerve sets itself alight. It's funny. All those dresses, all those flames, and this is what truly makes her feel like the Girl On Fire. Pretend, Haymitch had said, so she arches into it, tells herself that it's for show and that's the reason why her hands slip just under his shirt. There's a noise low in his throat that makes her gasp against his lips and she can feel his grin forming against her mouth as they kiss. Pressed against each other like this she can barely feel the bark at her back and instead finds her thoughts consumed by the feel of him against her. There's a Mellark induced fog hazing her mind but she shakes it long enough to remember her plan. This hadn't quite been part of it. But she can use it. Her hands slide around the ridge of his pants, fingers gently seeking as she kisses him and he laughs against her lips. 

"Told you you'd want me. Didn't I Princess?" He teases but the breathless quality of his voice doesn't escape her. It's a strange thing, realising she's not the only one affected. 

She kisses him again in way of answer and he groans against her mouth, a hand tugging her braid loose and the other slipping under her shirt to settle at her waist. The feel of his hand on her skin makes her shiver. 

"There's something I want," She whispers against his mouth knowing the cameras will hear it. Her hands stop at the front of his pants and he grins victorious. 

"If you ask nicely, maybe I'll give it to you." He says lips ghosting hers.

"No, thank you." She says so politely, she's sure Effie would be beaming...if it wasn't for her current position at least. "I've already got it."

She sinks her teeth into his lower lip, violent and not unwanting and Peeta jerks back with a hissed curse. Katniss ducks out from under him, facing him even as she walks back towards the treeline. He thumbs at the blood on his lips even as she licks her own, and suck his thumb into this mouth just like he did the last time they'd been so close. 

"I'll take these," she says victorious, his belt hanging in one hand, the multiple weapons thud against each other softly in their holsters. Then she gestures with a rough nod of her head to the tree. "You can keep that one."

Katniss turns and flees into the trees, Peeta's laughter echoing behind her.

She doesn't stop until she's far enough and sure he's not following and then climbs up the nearest tree, mindful of her leg. When she settles on a branch her hand finds her lips, trailing over them kiss swollen. There's silence until beeping filters through the rustling of the leaves and Katniss reaches out to catch a parcel as it floats gently by. Relief thick in her chest she opens it with gratefully shaking fingers, finding two medicinal pots inside.

_Now that's a kiss. Stay alive._

_-H_

Katniss applies the burn cream first, a shaky exhale of relief as the pain recedes, and applies the smooth gel to the cut on her cheek before stuffing them inside her bag. "Thank you," she whispers, head tilted back to the sky. 

> _Peeta rejoins the other Careers just as the sky lights up, anthem playing as the faces of two Tribute boys flash overhead. Clove doesn't spare him a glance, but Glimmer flutters her lashes at him, and Cato cracks open a single eye and gives him a curious glance._
> 
> _"Where did you go?" He asks from his position sprawled out over his blankets. "What the fuck happened to your weapons?" Peeta allows himself a smile that's almost genuine, and the Capitol swoons._
> 
> **_"I had a date."_ **


End file.
